Confessions of a Spontaneous AHole
by sweetapplePOP
Summary: Max is in the time where nothing makes sense. Teenage time. So to make up for that, she has to be spontaneous! Things that happen, whether it be love, hurt, friendship, or pure drunken mistakes, she still hangs in there. She chooses to be an idiot. A kid.
1. Chapter 1

So this is kind of my first story. It's like a sort of weird, diary like, but totally insane story...hope you like it!

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**Confessions of a Spontaneous A-Hole**

sweetapplePOP

_October 29_

Maybe you'd think I'm totally insane if I started out like this, but I have a serious problem with belt buckles.

And because I'm SUCH a good friend, I've agreed to go to a party with Gizzie, where, without my knowing, absolutely EVERYONE wore belt buckles.

I know. I know. "Shut the hell up pretty girl, belt buckles are stylish and your an idiot." But this was a country party. A barn party. Or "barn dance." The type of party where guys wear the biggest of belt buckles to get lucky. Where girls lose their virginity in hay stacks.

And younger CITY girls, such as Gizzie and myself, are prone to being belt-buckle-prizes. The "prizes" that toothless, hairy, beer bellied, belt buckled tards will cherish. But good thing we know that that is totally DISGUSTING!!

But, don't get me wrong. I'm not anti-country people or anything. I actually do have a picture of this hot guy on his tractor in his little cowboy hat without a shirt. I'd be so lucky if I could get something like that! But still, even though I may be "categorizing" them as weird people, it's only because I've only met weird country people.

Still don't believe me? That's fine. But there was already one guy eying me. And who am I kidding? He was adorable. He was light skinned with very dark hair. So when I looked over to him, he was smiling a sweet smile. But when I look a little lower, I notice him clutching his belt buckle! Seriously?! Then I saw him wink at me...

Now your thinking, "Oooh look at you! Get some girl!" But listen to the greatness of what happens next. So when he grabbed his belt buckle, he tilted it up, which caught the light, which reflected in my face. Then, because of the sudden brightness that bore into my pupils, I happened to cringe. I cringed right after he winked at me! Smooth, huh?

Anyway, so Gizzie dragged me along to this party for the dumbest reason. See, the guy who's throwing it, Gavin, is a few years older than us. Well I'll just go out and say he's a Junior. But Gizzie is soooo in love with his little brother, Chuck, who is our age. So here's the whole line of connections:

My other best friend, John, has an older brother, Mitchell, who told John, who talked to Chuck about crashing it, who said "hell yes."

Then John told me, then I told Gizzie, who got all giddy, then she talked to Chuck, who told her she should come.

So now I'm being dragged around trying to spot Chuck for my poor love struck friend.

Gizzie better be ready when I wanna chase after some guy. Her ass will be equipped with a walkie talkie. Yelling over "Yee-haw" (which happens to be about a million times louder than my actual voice) doesn't quite work.

But I spotted Chuck and John. So I quickly grabbed her by the collar and dragged her sorry ass over to them.

I took a seat by John, and the only seat left was by Chuck. For a couple of minuter Gizzie stood there, unable to figure out whether to sit by him or to bail out. But someone shoved her from behind, causing her to practically fall on top of Chuck. But anyway, she ended up sitting down.

"So...this is sweet." I said, trying to strike up a conversation like the awesome person I am.

John looked at me, reading my soul. "You hate it you twat. This is probably the lamest party I've ever been to."

"Shut up dude, you haven't been to any other parties, you wouldn't even know."

"Yea I have dammit"

"No you haven't"

"Yea, with Mitchell. We always go to frat parties."

"I'm sure you do."

"I do."

And the cycle goes on forever. I don't know why we do it, but it's just a way to keep us entertained. Until we get tired of arguing and then think of a physical way to do it. Yea. Right now John and I are punching each other in the arms while the two across the table are looking at us in horror.

Chuck clears his throat. "So do you wanna dance Gizabele?"

Gizzie (whose real name is Gizabele but John and I call her Gizzie because it sounds like a bear and we tease her about all her bear like features...and also because it's shorter...) got all red faced and nodded her head really fast like she had some kind of disorder or something.

We watch them go into the crowd, then we stop fighting.

We look at each other and at the same time we say "Keg."

Traveling through the ocean of hicks isn't as bad with John, of course it could be that he is a guy, and as a guy you are given a second glance whether to be shoved off or not. But it still had some downs, me and John are kind of short compared to the rest of the people. We're still in the eighth grade! There is an excuse to be short.

But we still reach the keg. And even though we're kind of like seven years under the drinking age, we drink anyway. Nobody actually listens to the laws like that. I guess there's a plus side of having alcoholic beverages in a barn in the country where cops can't really go...

Now, this being my second party where there was beer, I have gotten the hang of it. Just knock it back, you'll feel it later.

So we travel back to our table, or which is better described as a flat wood plank set on top of some stacks of hay. The red plastic cups are now feeling like the most treasuring thing in the world. I look at my best friend of four years, who is still dancing with Chuck, then I steal a glance over to my best friend of 14 years, who looked back at me. John gave me his full toothed grin and pointed over to a group of guys.

Amazing!

There was some guys from out grade we knew. It was Seth, Nick, Tyson, and Jackson. My homies!!

So, we make a b line to them, and they see us in our drunken state. I get smoothed by Tyson and Nick, in a bear hug that left me feeling soo dreamy. Their cologne was probably what set off my next embarrassing moment.

"You guys...I'm drunk...at a buckle belt paaarrtay...and I might..." I struggled between hiccups when Tyson drapes his arm around my shoulder.

"You might what Max?" he whispers in my ear.

"I might feel...a little horny!"

After saying that, all I remember is drinking the rest of my drink, stealing Johns drink, getting more drinks, and blotches of light and discolored figures.

What was I supposed to do when I woke up the next morning, with a killer hangover, drool on my forehead (I'm pretty sure it wasn't mine...), and on the top of some stacks of hay?

What was I supposed to say when I looked beside me to see a complete stranger sleeping without his shirt on, and his belt off next to him?

Was I supposed to freak out?

Well I looked off the top of my mountain of hay, and I could see only a few people left...

And none of them were John or Gizzie.

None of them I knew.

And worse.

The stranger was waking up.

I panicked in a still type of way. The type of way where you want to move, your telling yourself to move, but your stuck.

He is awake.

Then he looks at me, his bright blue eyes shining.

Then he grabs his forehead and speaks.

"Are you the reason I have a hangover?"

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was it good? hopefully it was! I may not be an incredible writer, but R&R i wanna know what you think!! I'll put more in...


	2. Chapter 2

**Confessions of a Spontaneous A-Hole --2--**

sweetapplePOP

_The Day After October 29... _

I'm staring into the barrel of the gun.

I'm falling down Niagra Falls.

I'm feeling up the Presidents' daughter.

Well none of those things I am doing, but it sure as hell feels like it. What I'm actually doing is holding my head for dear life. I'm in pain. In agony.

When I woke up, saw the shirtless mystery next to me, I can't say I didn't freak out. I almost had a panic attack because of the fact that I wasn't in the comfort of my hilariously blue room.

And when I saw the color of the mysteries eyes and heard him talk for the first, well maybe the first I could have talked to him last night in my drunken state, time, I nearly had a full on heart attack.

But then, after staring at him for what seemed like minutes, I did something that will change my life forever.

When I look back I will be able so say I learned something from that.

After October 29, I learn something very important. A piece of information that will set you off for life. That info: NEVER EVER bump heads when you have a hangover...

Now tell your children, and tell them to tell their children, and so on and so forth.

Because that shit hurts.

Hurts more than anything in the whole world.

I know your probably giving me the "You don't know what the hell your talking about! You know what hurts? Five years of depression and anxiety!"

Well frankly I don't give a fuck.

Bumping your head when you have a hangover is a no-no.

And on with the story...

"So are you the reason for this hangover?"

I sit there, not saying a word. I think I'm dazzled by the sweet deepish sound of his voice. But that would only be for the fairytales.

I was actually dazzled by the way that your head can boom when someone talks just a little.

"Hellooooo?" He says, waving a tired hand in my face.

"Ahhh...!" I lean back clutching my head. Slowly I finally say real things... "My head. God. Dammit. Don't speak."

I peek one eye at him, and he returns the look and nods. Maybe he had done this before?

He searches around for his lost shirt, and after a while of searching I notice him staring at me.

I look away, then look back.

He's still staring.

The same thing repeats over and over again for about eight billion minutes. Well probably like one or two, but keep up with it...

Finally the actions are starting to annoy me. "What the hell are you staring at, dude?"

He smirks then raises his eyebrows. "Your kind of sitting on my shirt..."

I look down and sure enough I was. Pulling the green fabric up, I hand it to him, and his hands brush against mine, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine.

Deciding to get up and stretch, I notice that he's still sitting right there. I look down and him and raise my eyebrow. "So, uh," I clear my throat. "what's up homes?"

He laughs, which kind of takes me by surprise. What the hell would he be laughing about? "What?" I quickly search my mind. "Are you too cool to be called homes?"

"You have no idea what you did last night, do you?" was his reply.

Now I was starting to get freaked out. I was also angry for a reason I don't know... But then I was also starting to get proud. Maybe I did something very funny. Maybe I did something I shouldn't have done. Maybe I did somebody I shouldn't have done. There could be many "maybes"...

"Uhhh..." was all that came out of my mouth while I was having a complete maybe marathon.

"Max." I look over at him. "How old are you?"

I didn't know how to answer him, so my idiot side (your probably thinking my regular side but I'm not an idiot!!) took over fast. "I don't know. How old are you, Buckko?"

He shook his head. "Playing hard to get? I'm 15. My name's Wes. I met you last night...I'm Seth's friend...?" He looked at me as if he were trying to send in a secret message to my head or something. Unconsciously I stepped back.

"I'm 14. And sorry but I have no clue who you are..."

"It's alright." He stands up by me and I notice that he is about a head taller than me. "You were pretty wasted. So you still have no clue what you did?"

I shook my head and I followed him down the 'Mountain-o-Hay.' I see the stretched out bodies of clueless people, their belts thrown aside, the buckles shining brightly in the morning sun.

"So what did I do?" I asked him, glancing to look up at the side of his face. I notice the many freckles he has and the bump on his nose...

"You..." he paused and stepped up to the top of some rocks. He held out his hand to help me up. I took it and watched his arms as he pulled me up. "You did that."

Before us was a drop. We were on a cliff. Then there was a large, large cornfield. What's so great about a corn field? Nothing. But what I saw was mind blowing. In the field, particularly up this high, was trails of disaster. So pretty much most of the corn was smooshed.

"Fuck." I said, fidgeting with my fingers.

"Yep. Fuck. But thats not even the worst." He led me off a little further and pointed down the cliff to a splotch of blue and black.

"What the fuck is that?" I ask, confused.

"That, Max, is a country cop four wheeler." Then he giggles. "The one you crashed."

My eyes widen as I stare down at the destruction I made. "Nuh-uh."

"You want the whole story?" He asks, brushing back his light brown hair.

"There's a whole story?"

"Yep."

"Well are you sure it's a cop-"

"Yep."

"But did I really-"

"Yep."

I sit down on the nearest rock. I pat the space next to me and he smiles and walks over to it. But before he sits down, I grab his arm and look at him straight in the eye.

"Wait. Where the hell is Gizzie and John?"

His eyes brighten even more. "Those two! Oh, Max. They have a whole other story to tell you. Everything seemed to happen tonight, but you should really hear what you did first, since it's the beginning of everything..."

"Okay. So tell me Wes."

He leans back and rests on his elbows. I look at him, and he seems to be thinking really hard for where to start. "Well, I'd really start off by the first thing you said to me."

I leaned back on my elbows, copying his stance. "What did I say?"

A short silence until I realize he's laughing.

"What?!"

He took a deep breathe. "The first thing you said to me was, _'Do guys really have peckers?'_"

so heres another chapter!


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